Paul Pilz

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I am taking a break from holiday influenced item posts (but evidently still devoted to dogs), to bring you an item I purchased at an odd venue last weekend. An ad on Instagram for an Oddities Flea Market (@odditiesfleamarket) caught my eye and on a whim I paid for tickets for Kim and I to go. I knew most of it would not be of interest to me, but I figured that maybe 25-30% of the vendors might be interesting. The line to enter (even with tickets) went down West 18th Street at the Metropolitan Pavilion and evidently it is an annual affair with a devoted following I have just never heard of previously.

The percentage of Pam’s Pictorama type vendors was perhaps a tad lower than 25%, but black cat items sort of did have a big moment there and I ended up making a not insignificant number of purchases in the end – and could easily have spent even more. One thing that got away at this table was an old orange ceramic cat that lit up. It had already been broken and repaired and I would say the ability to get it to light up seemed dubious, but in the end it just seemed too fragile to come live here at Deitch Studio. Still, I imagine that it must have a great orange glow if you could get it working. Anyway, you will be the beneficiaries of those interesting tidbits I did buy in coming weeks and this is the first of them I am sharing.

This photo postcard came from a vendor who had a nice little cache of black cat and other interesting items. After shelling out for some bigger items I pawed through some excellent (and reasonably priced) boxes of photo postcards. I plucked out two, and Kim one, and today I share the first of them now.

A quick search of Paul Pilz turns up a fairly thorough blog post on him which can be found here. I have nicked this other photo of Pilz from that site. It is a larger shot of him but very similar.

*Alternate version of the same publicity photo, seems like this one was used pre-War however – not in Pictorama.com collection.*

I won’t endeavor to repeat what that post has to say, but between that site and AI I learned that Pilz was evidently part of a traveling troupe on what is described as very small stages with a dog act, accompanied by him on the trumpet and doing comedy. This popular act ultimately morphed into one where he was a featured performer entertaining the German troops during WWI. (Wanderfheafer Armee Abf. A. on this card – they were already an army headliner. I shudder in horror some indeed at the idea of what traveling with a troop of dogs entertaining troops during WWI might have been like although for the dogs it might have been the best of gigs and options.)

Although I generally collect images of animal imitators (some posts on those can be found here and here for starters) I do have a sub-genre of photos that feature acts (here is one of several) and these seem to belong here too.

There was a recent article in the New York Times about a dog act at the Big Apple Circus (at this time it can be found here, entitled The Show Stealing Dogs of the Big Apple Circus) and so I had a moment recently to contemplate the treat filled world of dog tricks. I like the part where the trainer says if they mess up (balk at jumping through a hoop for example) he just makes it part of the act.

*From the NYT article, performing pups.*

Years ago Kim took me to a cat circus (Russian) performing downtown here in New York. I even had my photo taken with the ringmaster – for a price of course. I loved it! The photo hangs on an overflowing corkboard near our computer where a drawing of Kim (by Dave Collier’s son who visited about a year ago), something about Carter De Haven and an long ago article on a nascent Ugly Betty cover it. I wanted to pet the kitties which was, understandably, not encouraged. From the perspective of having seen that, I will say, cats or dogs, performing is a treat filled activity and I can only assume it is the rigorous work outs that keep the animals trim.

Under his name it says, roughly translated, with self-written repertoire – I guess a way of saying original gags? It declares Humor at the top, in case the photo didn’t alert you. The sort of masked characters on either side of that are a bit terrifying. Urns of flowers are on either side and a decorative bow tied image of him make up this card.

In the photo he presents a comical character with his trumpet, and his dog in his arms held like a baby. He looks at the dog and the pup looks out at the camera. I’m not sure but this photo may have been artificially put together from two – it doesn’t quite fit as a real image. I’m not sure I can entirely follow the concept of a dog act driven by trumpet playing. It sounds – loud!

This card is a bit tatty but was never mailed, no writing on the back and therefore no date certain, except that it clearly was during the war. I wonder if these were given out to troops when they were performing – and how strange that if so it has survived all these years just to land here in December of New York City of 2025 and find its way to the Pictorama library.

Tomasso Catto Singers

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Pam’s :Pictorama Post: Today’s post is an oddball card I picked up at the postcard sale recently. It portrays the never ending saga of cats atop a roof, singing their nightly woes and joyous howls. I have numerous entries in this bonanza of images although a favorite is an unusual panorama photo of cats on a fence (and dogs) shown below for a post that can be found here.

This is another of those postcards which is address and date by the sender but no evidence of mailing. On the back it says, For Beatie From Dad. Ramsgate. 24/3/07. Therefore this card is a bit older than maybe I would have guessed.

Cats on rooftops though is also a thing and I wonder about this. Blissfully, I have never found one of my cats, or a stray for that matter, on my roof. That might be because I lived in a very high two story house growing up, but even our more compact house in Jersey does not have rooftop kitties. I assume it is more of a function of houses and row or townhouses close together? How do they get up there and down again? Attics maybe? It must have been a thing because you see them portrayed on roofs as much as fences. Here it is a red tile roof, but definitely a roof nonetheless.

The artist has provided us with some cat diversity in this quartet, two marmalades, a dark gray and a white-ish tabby. Tails stick out handily for the composition on either side and peek up on either side of the Baritone and the Contralto, arguably somewhat strangely placed for the Baritone, sort of in front of him.

These musical felines clutch an advertisement sheet, with claw paws, that looks like it doubles for their music. It promises, Every Night Lessons in Howling by the Tomasso Catto Family Speciality Midnight Concerts/ Three Blind Mice Words by – Prowler Music by – Howler: Sung Nightly by the Mew Quartette. Their fluffy feet peer out below the paper. The orange on the end, Tenor, seems to look the most like a participant in and old-fashioned barbershop quartet. Meow!

(The post for this particularly good Louis Wain image below can be found here.)

I don’t know about my Pictorama readers but I could never rest easy at night if I heard cat fights or howls in my yard. Although I know enough about cats to know the ruckus that can be raised, I admit to being glad that our colonies of strays is largely reduced enough that this is no longer a routine event here in Yorkville or in Fair Haven. A cat meowing outside will drive me nuts looking for it. Far from tossing a shoe at them I would of course be worrying about it. My mother was the same – hence the admission of Stormy and Gus into our family over time. They arrived at the back door with all paws on the ground however.

There were some good times for cats, even domestic ones, that managed to spend the occasional evening out with the fellas or gals as it may be. I have written out our cat Zipper who used to through parties in our garage for the local bunch after raiding a neighbor’s eel pail kept for chum. The price of domestication as I pointed out in a post last week where guest speaker Temple Grandin talked about a dog at the hospital that had eaten and entire shoe. For a quick look at that interesting talk see below. Our town in New Jersey seems to want to strictly restrict cat residents outdoors and the Jersey Five are all indoor cats. Needless to say, up on the 16th floor in Manhattan, so are Cookie and Blackie!

Bon Appetit!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Four little tabby kittens are playing on this sort of jerry-rigged see saw here. The see saw always seemed a bit fraught with discomfort. You generally ended up falling abruptly to the ground at some point. Ouch! You were somewhat at the mercy of the other person too. Can’t say I have overly fond memories of them as playground equipment goes.

We won’t examine the mechanics of this one too much – it doesn’t withstand study, just a plank on another it would appear. The cat who is high up has that slightly both excited and queasy look that one got suddenly being bounced up that high. Oh my!

The kit in the down position has his back to us, note his tail going off the page, and then we have the two in the middle, one who seems to be officiating in some role. I love that all four cats are tabbies here – it would feel very different if the artist had chosen several different kinds of cats. There is a leafless tree on the left making it feel wintery.

*Back of the card – addressed but devoid of postage.* *You can see it is embossed here.*

It is hard to see but the image on this card is embossed which makes it more dimensional. It was produced in Germany, but the writing on it, front and back, is French. I think it is worth noting that although the back is fully addressed there is no stamp – I am seeing this in my current pile of cards. I wonder if these were hand delivered or put in envelopes or what.

It took some careful study, but all of the writing on the front of this card was added by the sender. I scratched my head over Bon appetit! Are we munching on kittens? It is hard to see but each of the kittens has been named as well, Jeanne is the one on the right, standing on hind legs; Marguerite sits on the lower end with her back to us; Genevieve negotiates the middle space and Simone is up top! This writing is so very neat and printed so small! There is something in the lower right which I think was also applied by hand and it is debatable what it says, maybe CLts?

It was sent to Mademoiselle M. Briffant Mikel at an address I cannot make out – without postage as aforementioned. So perhaps this was sent to a young girl and the names are of sisters? Real cats? Wish I knew but it is charming.

*From a recent post where the commentary and notes help make the image.*

In collecting postcards I have come to realize that the writing on the front often significantly enhances the visual of the card. This is very often true especially on Louis Wain cards I have found where people are alluding to the action in the drawing. (See an example in the post here. Although Wain also tended to add notes in his own hand too. The post for the non-Wain one above can be found here.) Sometimes it is so spot on and seamless that, like this card, it is hard to tell that it wasn’t done by the artist.

*Card Kim recently purchased at the Metropolitan Postcard Club show. It’s all about the writing!*

There is another, not insignificant, bunch of cards from this period where the entire contents are written on the front and then maybe just addressed on the back. Kim bought this card below for that very reason the other day. (Yes, while I was buying the place out of cat cards he made a few discerning purchases as well. You’ll likely see them over time.) The dealer told him that she has one person who collects these but only when written in a certain language. I am unsure what language this one is in, although it is dated February 26, 1907 on the front (postmarked the 27th on the back) and it was sent here in New York State to Miss Maurtha Schwabe, c/o E. Rumert, Green-Ridge, Haaten-Toland, N.Y.

It is not intuitive but the writing on these cards, sometimes intentionally altering the image and other times just looking for space, enhances rather than devalues them – at least for some of us collectors.

Everything’s Swell!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s impossible for me to see this card without hearing a certain sort of cartoon cat voice from my childhood – vaguely sarcastic, probably based on a motion picture idea of what a citified gangster sounded like. His friend and sidekick would reply, Yeah, right boss!

This is among the last of the cards I bought at the big postcard show over the summer. (Never fear, there’s another show coming in early October.) This card looks like it could have been drawn by one of those cartoon animators as a side gig. It has a pro feeling to it. The cat on the fence with the big orange sun setting – a glowing sunset behind the fence we realize when we really look. We get a peek at a yellow field and a house behind. It is as if the world is very beautiful glowing yellow and civilized just on the other side of the fence from where these three cats gather.

The two males on the fence seem to be tuning up for a night of caterwauling, while the girl cat belongs to someone who has place a bow around her neck. I guess she matriculates through both worlds. There is a garbage can which has overflowed – I guess that can be investigated and raided later if the boys need a snack.

*Blackie and Cookie on the bed recently. They have only just reconciled with each other upon our return to the NYC apartment.*

Not surprisingly it has me in mind of what we called alley cats when I was a kid and which occurs to me right now to be a term you don’t really hear any longer. (Do we no longer have alleys? Or are cats no longer their denizens?) Instead we talk about strays and feral cats – terms people seem to use interchangeably which arguably are not. Domestic cats that have been abandoned are now strays but they are not feral.

I have written about our first stray found when I was a small child, Zipper. (I wrote about him and other tabbies I have known in a post here. Zipper’s interest in our tropical fish can be found here.) He was a classic alley cat, a tabby with a broken tail where the tip was always at an angle. Mom rescued him outside the laundry one day (this was before we had our own washer and dryer – yes, we’re talking quite a long time ago) where some boys were abusing him.

Zipper was super scrappy though and grew into a beautiful cat. I suspect in retrospect that our rather prim but gentle domestic cat Snoopy was probably utterly shocked by him. He kept his streetwise wits about him and became a ringleader of the neighborhood cats of the time. (Our cats were of the indoor/outdoor variety at the time.) Zips would round up his buddies and make raids on an eel box kept for bait up the street. What pussycat parties those appeared to be! Puking for days after and a need to hose down the garage. These two on the card would have happily attended and then gotten into a few fights.

*Mr. Miltie, our old, old timer.* *A long ago rescue from Newark.*

Spending time outside our cats would get into scraps and occasionally come home with a gaping wound which would eventually abscess and require a trip to the vet. Once I remember my mother couldn’t find a cat carrier and stuffed Zipper into a picnic basket which he promptly chewed right through – head sticking out and therefore somewhat stuck, on our the way there.

All of this was brought back to me by a snippet on Instagram this morning about a British woman and her son finding a cat in the backyard and enticing him inside over a period of a couple of years. Reminds me of our Hobo in New Jersey who we never were able to get inside and who disappeared last year. They call him Boysie, another tabby, and it was a bad wound that finally made them urge him inside and to the vet.

*Gus, on the bed. He came to the backdoor in NJ one winter. He can’t decide if he wants to be petted all the time or is afraid to at all.*

Now we have dedicated people doing TNR (trap, neuter and release) of cat colonies which have mercifully cut down their numbers. Strays with docked ears show this has been done and our Stormy bears that evidence. Here in Manhattan strays are much less common than they once were even in my lifetime. Still, Stormy and Gus both came to the backyard at Mom’s and the other three were otherwise rescued, Beau and Miltie from Newark and Peaches from a basement in Long Branch. We know that shelters are full to overflowing and I am told that in the spring a never ending parade of kittens were dropped at our doors at work despite our not even being a shelter.

Recently an older friend lost her sister unexpectedly and the sister had just adopted a stray. I was very tempted to invite her to join the tribe although eight might truly be the tipping of that scale.

Peaches. I actually touched her for the first time recently. She was asleep on a chair and did not appreciate it. Peaches will generally only let me get within a foot or two of her. Still, she seems very happy. Stretches and rolls around. Just a no-touch kinda girl.

I think of our cat companions and how very special they are. Cookie is asleep atop a Chewy box surveying her kingdom as I write and Blackie is wondering if he looks longingly enough I will give him a Churu treat. (I am the soft touch for these and secretly am always trying to put a bit more weight on Blackie. He is a willing participant.) It makes me sad to think of those kitties that could have happy lives in homes but don’t get the chance. Here’s to finding them all their very best homes.

Back Up? Why Yes…

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This scrappy little feline is issuing a warning – Back up! Cigar in mouth, claw paws and fixed stare, he chomps on a cigar which casts a reddish glow on his face, spewing a plume of smoke. His scratching paws show claws on the ground. He might be old and tatty but he can still fight a good fight. Although I think the admonishment means Get Back I think it also alludes to having your back up.

There is a small squiggle in the lower left corner and while I thought it was a spider or other insect, I now think it is someone’s way of signing their images. Google Images was not able to help me, however I now know that this was actually a woman’s suffrage image which I had not guessed. (I have a few suffragette items, which are frequently about cats, and a post about one is here.) It does make some sense now that I know it. It belongs to a series of cards featuring this tatty tom. This card was never used or mailed.

*Votes for Women statue. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

Cards like this referred to the changing social role of women and aligning them with cat like characteristics. I look at Cookie and Blackie this morning and I am not quite sure what characteristics they are referring to – I may be missing the point. (Cookie has been pacing the apartment and meowing at us and Blackie is napping on the couch. Neither seems politically idealistic.) I am not so thick however, that I don’t understand that this is a flinty, tough kit who is ready to engage their claws on all comers. Me-ow!

*From the same series but not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

I think I chose today’s card because we are mid-summer here in NYC and I am at sixes and sevens. A thoughtful colleague asked what I had enjoyed most about summer so far and my first thought is how hot and wet it has been and I could hardly come up with a pleasant answer. Work has been busy (event in Sag Harbor a week ago) and other than the temperatures and the humidity it has not felt like summer at all. We are generally frayed and on edge here. My fur is standing on end!

Next week sees our month long move to the Jersey shore and some vacation. I am hoping to restore my equilibrium and my spirits with long evenings on the porch among the dahlias and the hummingbirds which come to snack in the evenings. I want to eat my homegrown Jersey tomatoes, local corn and peach ice cream, along with grilling some fish. I want to drink an iced drink and read on the deck with Kim also reading in a chair across from me. (We have a towering pile of books we are bringing!) August is designed to smooth our fur and get us ready for the coming fall ahead.

Tail End

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I have a somewhat odd Louis Wain card which I have to assume is an early one, before he found his feline métier in the more satirical and representational vision of cats. This black one is loaded up with symbols of luck – a black cat being lucky in Great Britain, if not here in the US. (Proving them to be sensible sorts in this regard – in my opinion!)

This card was never used and is attributed to the Alphalsa Publishing Company in London. This company seems to have existed, under shifting names, between 1910 and 1930, although there is an intimation that the archive from it existed into the 1960’s when it was lost in a fire. The back of the card also identifies it as The Aloha Postcard. Louis Wain and Alpha get credit on the bottom front of this card.

*A somewhat peevish Blackie on my lap the other morning. He wanted my chair.*

This kit is grinning from ear to ear and doesn’t seem to mind the bag of gold piled atop his head. He has symbols of luck and prosperity tied to his tail (don’t try this at home) and around his neck – those ancient symbols (still used for their original purpose in Eastern cultures) which a decade or two later became swastikas. A horseshoe is thrown in for good measure although I was always told that they should go in the other direction in order to keep the luck from pouring out.

In addition to fortune, this card is promoting Health, Wealth and Goodluck to the Very Tail End. I like the idea that this little fellow is good luck to the tip of his tail. While not being especially superstitious about luck symbols – good or bad – I can appreciate picking up a good heads up penny now and then.

*Beauregard during a recent visit to NJ.*

I, of course, subscribe to the black cats are good luck theory – thank you Beauregard and Blackie! Blackie cheats it with a white badge on his chest and some hidden on his tummy. You need to look really closely at Beau (one of the Jersey five) to find a few white hairs on his chest. Kim has a theory that the white star on the chest was an evolutionary move to protect all black cats from superstitious fear.

Meanwhile, I am utterly sold on the friendly good tempered nature of male black cats which I have only discovered with these two – a longstanding tuxedo fancier I love them but they tend to another personality altogether. Cookie is a girl of course which is quite different anyway, but she is comparatively shrill and less easy going than her fraternal counterpart.

Atlantic Highlands

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today’s postcard, celebrating a local summer spot where I grew up in New Jersey, seems like a fitting Memorial Day holiday kick-off card. I purchased it at the postcard show bonanza of a few months ago with the intention of framing it for the house in NJ where I am gathering a few early cards of local spots I love.

This one was mailed on August 8, 1923 from Atlantic Highlands at 11 AM. It was mailed to Mr. Robert Del Paso, 44 Est 98th Street, New York. Written on the back is a brief note, Best regards to you and your sister from Dorothy and Eugene.

The view shown here is the one that you now see from the ferry when it pulls in. It looks nothing like this now, a small public beach is at the landing and some low condos not far beyond. Boats dock nearby and restaurants and small businesses dot the edge of the water along with some houses, although you don’t see those right in this spot either, as it is largely in the shadow of a much larger bridge.

The approach to Atlantic Highlands via ferry from 2021.

The first time I took the ferry into Atlantic Highlands, the sense memory of that spot was amazing. On the occasions I would go sailing with my dad or on the creaking wooden fishing boat of my grandfather, the Imp, we would head first under one bridge and then the other and to the bay or ocean. The sense of history smacked me hard being on that spot of the water again.

I have touched on this Jersey shore enclave before, not long ago in a post about Bahr’s Restaurant which can be found here. I opined on the thoughts I had about living there at one time, and the history of that restaurant where I had what turned out to be a last birthday dinner with my sister, a few decades past now.

Atlantic Highlands, and it’s kissin’ cousin Highlands, abut the area of the shore I grew up in. (Highlands is the hamlet slightly further into the river side, Atlantic Highlands faces out toward the ocean and beyond.) However, while Sea Bright, a spit of land that adjoins it, was an almost daily destination, the Highlands while hard by, somehow were the route less taken. I believe that this was probably largely due to beach traffic and while being almost within shouting distance as the crow flies it was rarely the shortest way to go anywhere from Memorial Day through Labor Day.

*The parking lot for the ferry, next to the small public beach and some condos.*

Once I hit high school we made it part of our route when traffic died down late in the evening. We ate lobster rolls and drank beer at shacks at the edge of the river at the junction where the bay joins the river and the ocean. Also on our route was a movie theater that showed films recently fallen out of circulation for an admission of $1.00. Beyond that, expensive restaurants that hugged the shore and gave a view as far as Manhattan on a clear day and those were beyond our means.

Atlantic Highlands, as shown in this postcard, attaches to Sandy Hook beach (and now state park) via the bay. Not only has this quaint wooden bridge been replaced, but the concrete one of my childhood (which seemed plenty big at the time, bigger than its Sea Bright counterpart which required a draw bridge function for the passing parade of boats) was replaced very recently by a true behemoth of a bridge.

The one in Sea Bright is also under reconstruction and I gather will no longer be the draw bridge of my childhood – it’s opening hourly in the summer was how we timed our days in the summer in order to avoid it and the traffic back-up it would cause. I had a boyfriend in high school who had a summer job working the bridge which was a great gig and the retirement job of numerous fishermen. I don’t know how, in retrospect, Ed got that job but many envied him it. I am sorry to say I never visited the tiny shack mid-bridge that was the man cave you stayed in if you worked the bridge.

I’m also sorry to have to say that one of the people I spent the most hours with in Atlantic Highlands is gone now. A long former boyfriend, I had fallen out of touch with Sam Lutz, and found out via local connections that he died a few years ago.

I suspect I will eventually return to writing about this area. For some reason it lives in my memory in a way other places do not. However, for now, this rosy sun setting over the Highlands hills is a good place to leave Pictorama for the holiday weekend as I head out there shortly.

He Loves Me!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: A few weeks ago I posted another postcard by Maurice Boulanger, a Wain wannabe. Boulanger’s cats have their very own maniacal streak although perhaps they lack the intellect of Wain’s calculating cats of the same period. (The earlier post can be found here.) I noted that this card was a bit more saccharine and I’m not sure I actually find it thus today as I look at its nuttiness.

This somewhat tatty card came from the same sale that has supplied Pictorama with numerous posts since March, a big buy that keeps on giving. This was from a set of no less than six – I saw the set in mint condition in an auction, but could only share these three below.

Daisies are clearly the theme here and the fluffy white cat blends a bit with the giant one she is holding. Interesting that there is a green leaf hanging off the daisy stem. The kitties hold paws (albeit a bit awkwardly) and somehow he stretches one long paw arm around her. She has a nice big bow on too. They look at each other with adoring googly eyes. More daisies decorate the border in a very Arts and Crafts pattern of the time and it climbs down the card behind the fellow. Next to the girl kitty it says, He loves me! He loves me not! He loves me!

I myself never actually picked daisies (or therefore did this sort of calculating if someone love me) as a child. Weirdly where I grew up did not seem to produce wild daisies. We had an abundance of dandelions but few daisies. I always think that illustrations like this are more like the giant Gerber ones, more often in bright colors, that need planting and tending but are worth the effort.

*Gerber Daisies – maybe I should plant some?*

It looks like this card was in an album as the four corners are nibbled away, probably held in by those black paper triangles. For all of that it is a bit bent and something white has spotted the surface if you look carefully – this makes me feel like this card was well loved however.

Written on the back is Paul Starr and Joanna Penna and a $2 notation. (I didn’t pay a lot but more than $2.) It was never mailed so it is undated.

I love the unbridled nuttiness of this card and in fact the entire series. I know little about Mr. Boulanger but clearly he had a charmingly whacky streak and his jolly kits are still hot stuff today.

Just Like Us!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is further evidence of last week’s bounty – still just the tip of the iceberg as well. I just showed Kim this card again and his reaction was, I almost like it. Ha! Well, I can see it might not be for everyone, but I do like this one and it makes me laugh.

The art is attributable to postcard artist and contemporary of Wain, Maurice Boulanger. Unlike Wain, Boulanger has not left many auto bio tracks and my nosy friend AI on the Google search doesn’t have much to say, nor has Wikipedia lent a helpful hand. He was very prolific at the dawn of the 20th century and is mostly identified with his often (but not always – he had a sappier more bucolic side) sharply satiric cat postcard images.

Someone has noted Boulanger on the back of this card in pencil; it is otherwise not identified on the card and unlike Wain he did not much seem to sign his work. Perhaps he just did not enjoy that privilege. I gather he did some rather pointed politically satiric cards involving animals as well but is less well known for those.

Boulanger, as evidenced by this card, is a bit less charmingly whacky, boffo and nuanced than Wain; he’s a bit of a one note wonder. His cat wears a nifty straw boater but he has a single thought and it is to pop that ducky into his smiling toothy maw. The duck, not surprisingly absent of humanoid characteristics is played as straight man soon to be snack.

Boulanger has made this cat arm a bit extra long and the hat is also a bit big to account, I guess, for ear coverage on one side. (The hat appears behind the visible ear in a way which I guess has a certain logic.) This leering fellow only has ducky murder and mayhem as a tasty toothsome morsel on his feline brain though and his open-wide cat grin does not convince the viewer otherwise.

This is a card which for me benefits from the sender’s addition, Just like us! followed by a slightly illegible signature, Dina or Diana and a surname I cannot read. Just like us! I do wonder what that means – I am not sure I would like to be identified with either of the players in this drama. Gosh – I say what does that mean?

It was sent to Jane Highgate Westerton Villa Shattleston – Glasgow Schottland. There is another word, in German I believe, up at the top I cannot read or translate. I show the back below for any German readers who can help. It was sent on 8.12.04 911 N which to my way of thinking was December of 1911 but maybe someone else can figure that better and let us know. It appears to have been sent from Zehlendorf (outside Berlin) and also it says Wainseebahn.

There is at least one more Boulanger card in this pile, one that runs more to the saccharine than this one. Aside from a New Year’s card which I used to hail the impending arrival of 2020, I think these are the first to join the Pictorama archive. (That New Year’s post can be found here.) More to come on him and his cats it seems – not at all surprising that you’ll find him turning up here at Pictorama.

Postcards – Behold the Beginning of the Stash

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Readers from last week know that Kim and I went to a postcard show, held in the West Village, where I purchased my way through a whole lotta postcards. I came away with holdings that I will be working my way through for the foreseeable future. I am hoping you enjoy the launch of what I can promise will be a varied trip.

I am kicking off this visual feast with one of my favorites from the pile. Although there is a nominal kitten here, it is the attitude of this beautiful young woman I love. It is a suggestive card but her energy and winning charm are amazing. Our woman is looking right at us and pointing at You out there. Her be-flowered hat is placed properly on her head and she sports a pretty necklace if you look carefully, a tiny opal or pearl at its center. (I will vote for opal as we know I am partial to them.)

I own a few other somewhat salacious cat cards, the French produced a line of them around this time. One of those prior posts, photo below, can be found here.

*French card. Pams-Pictorama.com collection. Another unhappy camera ready kitty!*

She is wearing what I guess would have been called a petticoat although that is a bit generic and people who know about these things would probably know a more precise way to describe this chemise. Although it looks like tights she wears I assume that these were sort of the regulation stockings of the day, although with her little low boot shoes.

She supports the kitten with the other hand, his hold on the back of the chair is otherwise tenuous. It is a tiny tabby kitten – and actually close study shows he has no grip on the chair back at all – and that he is not especially pleased with his part in this proceeding. Kitten career as prop. I believe about his world at the time that he could have done worse than working for his living in front of the camera. Maybe he grew up to have a sideline in mousing at the studio. (Blackie is on my lap and I just inquired about whether he’d be up to a mouse if presented with one. He seems on the fence.)

This card was never sent, like so many of these postcards. There is an odd torn edge along the left side. Somehow it feels like it was torn way back in the day at the point of origin, or near to it. It was evidently once sold for 87 cents – I paid a lot more than that I assure you. Someone has also written 1900 but that might just be their guess too.

I can’t actually say I am partial to those cards that were never used although less beat up. The tiny missives on the back (sometimes a bit of cheeky text added to the front) of those that were sent always thrill me. They are windows into a brief moment in a life and I sort of treasure that.